


One Night Of Freedom

by WhisperingThieves



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bars, Casual Sex, Drinking, M/M, One Shot, Oral Sex, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Smut, Thiefshipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 07:43:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9062872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingThieves/pseuds/WhisperingThieves
Summary: Bakura only wished for a night of silence from Necrophades, and that silence was fairly easily obtained.
Unfortunately for the long dead thief, annoyances can manifest themselves in many ways-- one of these manifestations going by the name of Marik Ishtar.
//Shameless first attempt at non-cracky smut/pwp





	

A single night. That was all he needed. A single night to forget all the failed plots of vengeance and the flashbacks that followed his every move. A night to completely lose himself in the moment, and not worry about the troublesome past, or any repercussions the future might bring. Bakura grabbed the small, see-through cup in front of him, and let the contents run down his throat in one swift move, relishing in the burn the vodka brought with it. He slammed the shot glass down on the bar counter, followed by a few dollars to motivate the bartender to keep the alcohol coming. He could hear the stifled voice of Necrophades reminding him of his grand scheme to do the Pharaoh in, but he ignored it. It was easy to ignore the whispers of the darkness when he was tipsy, and the whispers completely disappeared when he was downright shitfaced-- and Bakura had full intention to enjoy that wonderful silence tonight. 

“Hey bartender-- Crown and Coke over here!” 

Bakura wanted to slam his head into the bar counter. Of course. Fate always seemed to have some hidden vendetta against him, so Bakura should’ve expected this. Although, that knowledge didn’t do anything to help his now soured mood. He started to slowly rise up in attempt to make a hasty retreat. There were tons of other bars in Domino City-- he wouldn’t have a problem finding another location to go on a bender at. Unfortunately, the two shots of vodka he had downed made a silent escape near impossible. He tried to maneuver the bar stool away from the bar to give him just enough space to make a slick escape, however, this created a rather jarring sound as the metal legs of the stool scraped against the rough wood flooring. He cringed and froze in place-- keeping his eyes to the floor, not daring to take a peek to his left. 

“Gods, you really are a cockroach, aren’t you? Didn’t I hand you over to Yugi and the Friendship Brigade?” 

Bakura swore under his breath. “Fuck off, Marik.” He raised his head, glaring at the Egyptian. 

Marik whistled low, raising the glass the bartender had slid over to him to his lips. “Touchy. Still bitter about losing to my other half?” 

“I’m not in the mood.” 

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’ then.” 

Bakura growled, snatching the other shot of vodka in front of him and downing it, setting the glass gently down on the bar. He turned toward Marik, a forced attempt at a lax smirk crossing his features. “Oh? Care to tell me of your adventures of kissing the feet of the Pharaoh? Such a pathetic display-- do you normally betray your allies so readily?” 

Marik was about to retaliate, but a rough shove to his backside sent a surprised yelp from his lips instead. He turned his head to look at the perpetrator, who happened to be a man who should have been cut off from the alcohol long ago. The Egyptian opened his mouth to give the drunkard a piece of his mind, but he was once again cut off, this time from an empty beer glass being launched his way. He was quick to lean out of the way, and watched the glass shatter to the ground before turning to meet the glaring eyes of the thief. “What the hell’s your problem?” 

Bakura grit his teeth, gesturing towards himself, his clothing splattered with alcohol. 

It didn’t take Marik long to put two and two together. “Ok, in my defense, that was not my fault. Thank the asshole behind me.” He pointed his thumb behind him, at a man who was currently face-down and passed out. 

Bakura was seething. He didn’t even have a sarcastic retort, or any retort at that. 

Marik sighed, getting up from the barstool. He would have to be the bigger man in this situation, lest Bakura decide to take out his anger on him, or some innocent trying to have a beer. “My apartment isn't far from here. I'll take you there so you can clean up, ok?” 

There was nothing but silence from Bakura’s end, so Marik tried again. 

“Come on. Humor me or something. I’d feel ba-” 

“You? Feel bad for someone?” Bakura snorted, getting to his feet. “Fine. I’ll go with you so poor Marik doesn’t wallow in his own guilt.” He sneered, sarcasm dripping as he headed for the door. 

Marik followed behind. “Asshole…” He mumbled under his breath. ~ 

Marik’s apartment was a silent and awkward five minute walk from the bar, and upon arrival, Bakura was promptly shooed off to the bathroom, given explicit instruction to not use too much of Marik’s shampoo and body wash, as they were expensive imports. 

Bakura, of course, completely ignored Marik’s requests, and used as much of the bottled soaps as he wished-- going as far to dump a good amount from the bottle directly down the drain for good measure. By the time the thief turned the water off and stepped over the lip of the tub, the bathroom was covered in thick steam. Bakura grabbed a towel, giving his body a once-over with it before focusing his attention to his dripping locks. His head whipped towards the door as he heard it open, and Marik sauntered on in, proceeding to dig through one of the cabinets. 

“Do you mind?” Bakura scowled as he continued to dry his hair. 

Marik looked his way, glancing up and down his body before returning to his previous search. “No.” 

“This isn’t a damn peepshow.” 

“I’m aware.” Marik smirked, glancing toward Bakura again. “Don’t peepshows usually have more… endowed people?” 

“...Excuse me?” 

The Egyptian closed the cabinet. “You’re not that impressive. Not the worst, but far from the best.” 

“Where the actual fuck did this come from?” 

“You brought up the whole peepshow thing.” Marik walked out the the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. 

Oh no. Oh hell no. Bakura wasn’t going to let Marik talk like that if he didn’t have anything to show for it. 

Bakura slammed the door open, catching the Egyptian off guard as he tackled him to the floor. 

Marik’s eyes were wide. “What the fuck is your problem?” 

“You’re all talk, aren’t you?” 

Marik narrowed his eyes, pushing Bakura off of him. “Trying to feel better about yourself?” He pulled off his belt, and unzipped his pants, pushing them and his undergarments slightly down. “Sorry to disappoint,” he snickered. 

Bakura snapped his gaping mouth shut. Sure, there was a part of him that had expected Marik to be able to back up his trash talk, but even that part hadn't gunned on the possibility that Marik’s cock would be so damn enticing. 

“No comebacks? What happened to your sharp tongue from earlier?” Marik jeered, wanting to hear a feeble retort from Bakura. 

Bakura licked his lips, his mind slowly turning to hormonal mush from staring at Marik’s cinnamon colored skin. “I’ll show you a sharp tongue…” He muttered, climbing back onto Marik’s legs, straddling them as he leaned down, licking a stripe up Marik’s cock. 

Marik took in a sharp breath as he watched the thief, eyes wide. He hadn't really planned for what would happen after he dropped his pants in front of Bakura-- he figured Bakura would simply throw another huffy tantrum before skulking off into the night. Although, Marik wasn't complaining at this change of events-- watching Bakura lap at his cock was erotic as hell. Marik decided to take matters into his own hands as Bakura engulfed the sensitive head, licking the budding precum and sucking softly. 

Bakura moaned, letting Marik’s cock fall from his mouth as he felt saliva coated fingertips circle around the sensitive skin of his asshole. He clenched his teeth, burying his red face in Marik’s abdomen as the Egyptian continued the torturous sensation. 

“Hm? What happened to that ‘sharp tongue’ of yours?” Marik smirked, switching their positions so Bakura was below him. His hands gripped the back of Bakura’s white thighs, pushing them into the thief’s abdomen until he was completely spread in front of him, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. Marik dipped his head, dabbing his tongue against the hot flesh of Bakura’s hole. 

The feeling was incredible, and left Bakura with his lips parted, a sweet melody of pants and moans flowing from them. His soft sounds turned desperate as Marik plunged his tongue in, practically fucking the thief with it. Bakura gripped at the carpet, managing to compose himself enough to semi-coherently utter a single word. “Bedroom.” 

Marik pulled back, raising an eyebrow toward the thief, a smirk accompanying it. “Aren’t you having enough fun out here?” 

“Fuck you. I’m not getting fucked in the middle of your living room on your scratchy ass carpet.” Bakura sat up, looking at Marik disgruntledly. 

“Touché.” ~ 

Bakura lay facedown on Marik’s bed, his head stuffed into a pillow as he huffed in annoyance, his hand in between his legs, trying to convince his erection to stay through means of caresses and rubs. The one who was supposed to be fucking the everloving shit out of him was currently digging though dresser drawer after disorganized dresser drawer. Bakura growled in frustration-- he had the patience to wait 5000 plus years for a revenge scheme, but waiting over ten minutes for sex was pushing it. “For fuck’s sake, just use spit!” 

Marik snorted, finally locating the small bottle of lube he had been searching for before turning back toward the sexually frustrated thief. “Weren’t you just commenting on how big I was?” 

“I didn’t say anything like that!” Bakura used his forearms to prop his upper body up, looking back disdainfully. 

Marik plopped himself on the bed, snapping the lid of the plastic bottle open. “You didn’t have to say anything-- I think your spontaneous blow job more than said enough.” He squeezed some of the cool gel onto his fingers, rubbing them together to warm up the liquid. “You ready?” 

Bakura grunted in response, preferring the more non-verbal response of laying his head back onto the pillow and shoving his ass up in the air, waiting to get prepped. A surprised, but appreciating hum came from his closed lips as Marik bypassed his ass, and grazed his lubed fingers against the near flacid cock. 

"What are you, stupid? I'm not going to fuck you if you aren't into it." Marik trailed his fingers up the underside, and moved them across the tip, before resting his palm against the shaft, gently closing the rest of his fingers around it. His starting strokes were slow, taking his sweet time-- he wasn't in a rush. He rubbed his thumb against Bakura's corona, taking note as a rather wanton moan erupted from the other man. From there he picked up the pace, focusing his caresses in that area as the thief in front of him unraveled in a fit of moans and gasps. 

"Marik...!" 

The Egyptian felt a shaky hand grip his wrist, halting his movements. He locked eyes with Bakura, who was straining his neck to look back, his face flushed and breathing uneven. Immediately, Marik yanked his hand back, his mind racing through a million different thoughts at once. Had he hurt him? Did he go too far? Was Bakura ok? He opened his mouth, trying to formulate all these concerns into one fluid question. 

"I don't want to cum yet." 

Marik's mouth snapped shut as all the worried thoughts rushed out of his mind; harsh, cold air escaping from an overly filled balloon, while hazy, warm feelings refilled it. He hastily grabbed at the bottle of lube, squirting a good dose onto his fingers before he slid one into Bakura, not bothering to warm it up beforehand. 

Bakura hissed, his hips jerking back slightly from the shock of the temperature difference. He felt Marik's other hand rubbing circles into his hip, the gesture acting more or less as an apology, and Bakura relaxed, sinking into Marik's touch. Like the previous handjob, Marik started tantalizingly slow, working his finger gently inside the ring of muscle. Bakura pushed his hips back, forcing more of Marik’s finger into him, and interrupting the pace. “Don’t be so damn gentle.” He stated firmly, but the resounding whine of anticipation had leaked into his tone. 

He didn’t have to tell Marik twice. He slipped a second finger in, and finding that Bakura did not show much of a reaction besides a heavy breath, Marik pushed in a third finger, earning a deep, guttural groan from the other. Marik moved his fingers around, trying to find that one spot that would make the thief see stars. A different texture against his fingers, followed by a loud, needy moan was a clear enough indication that he found it. 

Bakura arched his back, his fingers digging into the bedding as Marik relentlessly rubbed his prostate. Each movement brought him closer to absolute bliss, and yet, it wasn’t enough. His cock flared red hot, aching for release, and he’d be damned if he was going to cum from being fingered. “Just put it in already!” He squeaked, his smooth words being broken by a particular firm jab to his prostate. 

Marik laughed as Bakura raised a trembling hand to flip him off, and the Egyptian retracted his fingers, grabbing the small bottle for the last time that night, and dousing his cock with lube, flipping the lid closed and chucking it off of the bed. He made a mental note to buy some more-- he’d need to upgrade and buy the next size up if this started to be a common occurrence, and he positioned himself, probing his cock against Bakura’s asshole. 

Bakura took in a deep breath as he felt something much thicker than fingers press against him, and he circled his hips slightly, stimulating the sensitive skin around the area as he breathed out, heated air tickling his lips, along with a single phrase. “Fuck me.” 

Marik gripped Bakura’s hips, and slowly sheathed his cock inside of Bakura, releasing a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. However, his silent breath was nothing compared to the whines and pants coming from the thief as he tried to adjust himself to Marik’s girth. Marik hissed as the ring of muscle painfully clamped around his erection. “Fuking-- careful!” 

“So sorry.” Even in this amount of discomfort, Bakura was still able to put on a show of sarcasm, though the effect was greatly diminished due to his shaky voice. “Why don’t we shove a fist up your ass after this. See how your body responds.” 

“No fucking thanks. And that’s on a completely different level! I’m not shoving my-” 

Bakura rolled his eyes, tuning the rambling Egyptian out, and regretting his initial sarcasm that spiraled into one of Marik’s pointless rants . It was amazing-- the idiot was able to drop everything (apparently, sex was included in this) to push an argument. 

“--and… Hey! Are you even listening?” 

“No.” Bakura shifted himself forward, pulling himself away from Marik, before quickly reversing directions, shoving Marik’s dick back inside of him. Bakura’s mouth hung open, a moan shifting from pain to pleasure falling into the air. “Now if you don’t mind…” 

Bakura took a moment to steady his breath, intent on finishing his thought, before bronzed hands returned their grip to his hips, and Marik thrust into him. Bakura’s attempt at a steady breath turned into an elongated, lusty moan as Marik rammed him, abandoning his previous theme of a slow pace. 

Marik’s breathing was labored, and he could feel himself getting closer with every push of his hips. The warmth and the textures around his cock… The erotic screams coming from the mess of white limbs below him… Marik’s once fluid movements became erratic, and he tilted his head back, calling out deep as he came. He continued thrusting into Bakura until he was completely spent, before pulling out, and dropping to his side, breathing heavily. 

“Did you really just come inside of me?” Bakura sat up on his knees, his lip curling in disgust. 

“Yes.” Marik crawled over to Bakura, pushing him onto his back, and taking the pale cock into his mouth, silencing any further nagging from the thief. 

Instead of bitter nagging and whining, gasps and groans rang from Bakura’s throat, the sounds becoming louder as Marik once again focused on the spot where the head and the shaft met, his tongue caressing the area. With a pitch nearing a scream, Bakura came, the white liquid coating the inside of Marik’s mouth and throat. Marik gagged as it hit the back of his throat, but he swallowed it down, sucking gently at Bakura’s cock to make sure he got all of it. Marik pulled back, licking his lips. “Is that fair?” 

Bakura snorted weakly, spent from his orgasm. “Hardly.” 

Marik rolled his eyes, opting to curl up next to Bakura, yawning. “You know where the shower is. Make sure the door’s locked behind you when you leave...” The end of Marik’s sentence trailed off as he slowly fell asleep. 

Bakura supposed he should’ve gotten up. He supposed he should’ve taken a shower, using up the last bit of Marik’s luxury soaps. He supposed he should’ve left, and continued on with his ploy. He supposed, but he didn’t. Necrophades could go fuck himself with his giant dragon cock-- this was Bakura’s night of freedom, and he’d be damned if he didn’t use it to its fullest.

**Author's Note:**

> So that was my first real attempt at some smut. Probably not the best, but it was an adventure writing it! 
> 
> This, along with my other fics, aren't really beta-read, so if you notice anything odd (weird wording, improper word usage, impossible sex positions... ect) don't be afraid to tell me, it'd be greatly appreciated!


End file.
